


Homecoming

by AmbrosiaRush



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humour, Pre-Series, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 15:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbrosiaRush/pseuds/AmbrosiaRush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-series. One-shot. Just a moment in Filip and Fiona's early years before their lives became such a mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

She watched him enter the house from across the room and couldn't keep the smile off of her face, couldn't slow down her heart that started to race. He was different from her usual type, she'd always enjoyed rather wealthy men with impeccable taste- for a short time at least, they tended to be too dull to keep her favour. Never had any of those men caused such a reaction with her though, never did her heart leap with joy when they had walked through the door, never had the butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought of his eyes seeking hers out, never had they brought out such happiness by simply _being_.

Unlike the aristocrats she'd dated before her Filip wasn't smooth or suave, in fact any time where she even brought up going out somewhere fancy and perhaps him in a suit put him on edge even if she was joking- mostly. Perhaps it was thatlackof refinement that had initially drew her to him, there was just something about him, the hard edges, the calculating dark eyes. He wasn't handsome in the classical sense, but she'd be a liar if she said that he didn't do it for her. He just had a way about himself, and the more she had learned about him the more she had fallen in love with him.

Currently she was watching him from her spot, curled up in a overly plush chair by the fire place, she had a book in her hand, it was a good one too but it couldn't contend with the opportunity to watch Filip strip off his sweater.

He draped the discarded shirt over the couch and caught her watching him, he smirked. "Love," he greeted walking over to her, bending over to capture her lips with his, it was sweet, brief and filled with love.

She smiled as he leaned away a bit and looked at the book cover. He chuckled and shook his head. "Reading lady porn?"

She quickly book marked her spot and swatted him with the now shut book. "It's a romance novel, Filip," she replied haughtily.

He managed to get it from her and turned away. She tried to get it back from him but he kept holding it just out of reach. He managed to flip it open, his eyes scanning for something naughty which he found after flipping around a bit. "'Yes, yes,' she cried with joyous abandon as Lachlan thrust his-"

"Stop, stop," Fiona succumbed to a fit of giggles. "Enough!"

"Manhood," he continued to read as he wigged his eyebrows. She made another move for the book, though he dodged far more agile than she'd given him credit for at first, now she just knew she was in for a losing battle. She was well aware that she wasn't getting the book back until Filip got bored of his little game. "Into her..." his eyebrows shot up as his eyes kept scanning. "Christ, this really is naughty lady porn."

Fiona put her hands on her hips and tried to keep any humour she found in the situation off of her face. "Filip," she said sternly as she narrowed her dark eyes. "Give it."

"No way," he responded walking away with the book. "This is getting interesting."

"Filip!" she followed him with quick short strides and walked right into him when he turned around quickly.

He smiled as the book dropped from his fingers as his other arm wrapped around her waist pulling her in close. The hand that had once held the book now tangled in the wild hair he loved so much. His lips crashed down on hers with an impatience, a deep seeded need to taste her, to claim her as his own after so long apart. It had been only days, and yet it felt like years since the last time he'd set eyes on her, since he held her in his arms, since he'd tasted her preferred chamomile tea on her tongue.

He backed out of the kiss, their foreheads touching. "I fuckin' missed you, Fi."

She enjoyed the lilts of his voice, not that the accent was anything different from what she usually heard although his was rather muddled at times since he'd grown up in Scotland before moving to Ireland. His voice in and of itself made her weak in the knees. She was his, right from day one she'd known it.

"Aye," she whispered. "And I missed you, Filip."


End file.
